


6AYT679

by SirFrankieCrisp



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:45:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirFrankieCrisp/pseuds/SirFrankieCrisp
Summary: "Either that was an unmarked Uber, or you just spent the night with a guy"





	6AYT679

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil thing!

Whoever is on the other side of the door desperately wants their key to work without assistance. After a quick mental tally of the household inhabitants Gilfoyle realizes to his surprise that it must be Dinesh returning home from his date last night. He easily opens the jiggling handle, which confirms his suspicions.

"Huh, I guess lightning can strike the same place twice," Gilfoyle says lazily to his rival, eyeing the typical 'night out' outfit as Dinesh brushes past him quickly through the door. This gives him some pause, considering the show Dinesh put on the last time he got lucky. His eyes travel up to the sensible sedan idling in the street past their driveway. The man driving it glances back and makes quick eye contact with Gilfoyle, then pulls away. Huh. 

He closes the front door and glances around the living room and kitchen, not finding any trace of Dinesh. He passes the bathroom and sees it's unoccupied, which leads him straight to Dinesh's room. Dinesh is sitting on his bed, leaning over to unlace his shoes. 

"Either that was an unmarked Uber, or you just spent the night with a guy," Gilfoyle says, stepping into the doorway.

Dinesh's head whips up in surprise, eyes wide at the sight of his housemate. 

"What- the- fuck" he shrieks, standing up and picking up his shoes. "Get out of my room, what is wrong with you?"

"Not in your room. And I'm not going anywhere until you confirm what I just saw," Gilfoyle says, leaning against the door frame.

"Stop being ridiculous," Dinesh snaps, putting his shoes away and decidedly not making eye contact with Gilfoyle. "I got a ride from a friend." He mutters that last bit out in what can only be described as a classic Dinesh tell. His eyes are downturned and he plays distractedly with the hem of his wine colored shirt. Gilfoyle takes a moment to wonder at how Dinesh mustered up the balls to experiment with his sexuality before pointing out the most obvious flaw in his argument.

"You don't have friends," Gilfoyle replies, crossing his arms. "I would know if you'd made strides in that department. Which you haven't."

Dinesh just groans irritatingly, "Can't you please just go away? I'd like to get changed and despite your accusations, I'd prefer to not do it in front of another man."

"You avoiding this question is all the answer I need," Gilfoyle says casually. "I have the license plate. I'm three clicks away from finding this person." Gilfoyle isn't sure why it's so important for him to catch Dinesh in this lie. In the years and years they had known one another, despite considerable evidence in favor of this outcome, Gilfoyle had not seen this one coming. Dinesh continues to tidy his room in defiance, not allowing himself to be baited.

"Suit yourself. 6AYT679 is gonna hear from me," Gilfoyle turns from his spot in the doorway to begin heading down the hallway.

"His name is Sam," Gilfoyle barely registers Dinesh's strained statement. He turns back to Dinesh, who is back to sitting on his bed dejectedly.

"There. That wasn't so hard." Gilfoyle smirks, closing the door and crossing to sit on the bed next to him. Dinesh just glares at him, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees. They both stare at the carpet for several long stretches.

"I'm not gay," Dinesh says with some difficulty. There's a small, smothered place inside Gilfoyle that lights up with remorse. It goes against his beliefs to have taken this information from Dinesh without any invitation to do so. But fucking with Dinesh is so easy, so ingrained in his DNA at this point, the temptation was too great to ignore.

"It's one of humanity's greatest defects to try to contain and categorize something like sexuality. Humans are just humans, and all the same." Gilfoyle says, offering somewhat of an olive branch. 

"Pretty fucking lofty for someone so racist," Dinesh mutters to the carpet, unwilling to meet Gilfoyle's eyes. 

"I hate everyone equally," Gilfoyle replies coolly, crossing his arms defensively.

"And that excuses racism? That's some of the most privileged bullshit I've ever heard," Dinesh claps back, mirroring his crossed arms and turning away. There is a short silence. 

"You know I was just fucking with you, right? 6AYT679 is your license plate number."

"Oh, God," Dinesh groans, putting his head in his hands. Gilfoyle lets out a slow, measured laugh at his agony, and one of Dinesh's arms flails out in an attempt to smack him. Gilfoyle catches it easily, and there is a small tussle. An awkward moment of realization passes that they are two men, engaged in close physical contact, in a bed alone. Gilfoyle takes his hands away and crosses his arms again after fixing his glasses. 

"So you're not like, horrified by me, or think that I'm gonna start hitting on you all, right?" Dinesh cannot hide the panic from his voice. "I swear I'd never-"

"Again, the flesh wants what it wants," Gilfoyle tests his patience, never more grateful for years of experience and conditioning in the art of restraint. "I don't subscribe to the same brutish principles of right and wrong as you or anyone else in this wasteland." 

Dinesh breathes out what seems to be an intolerable amount of anxiety, "I kind of just started noticing how obsessed I got with Jeff. Like, it wasn't normal. Or," he furrows his brows heavily, searching for the right words, "Usual. I hadn't really like, felt that way about a guy before."

"Uh huh," Gilfoyle lets out.

"So then I went online and I saw Sam and it was like, so easy to talk to him. Not like it is with girls. I'm useless at talking to girls, but with Sam--"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Gilfoyle interrupts, "before you start crying or braiding my hair." He stands, somewhat abruptly. "Glad to know I was right all along." He starts to walk out of the room.

"Okay, so that's it then?" Dinesh cries, standing up as well. "You're just gonna go tell everyone in the house you were right, I'm a big fucking gay? Dinesh was such a failure with women he had to resort to men? Better avoid Dinesh, you might catch the ga--"

Gilfoyle takes two strides to cross to where Dinesh is, grabs his waist and cups the back of his head, and kisses him silent. Dinesh is stunned still at first, but when it doesn't end immediately he raises his hands feebly to Gilfoyle's sides, holding him in place. Gilfoyle deepens the kiss, their heads tilting for a better angle and opening up to one another. Dinesh barely registers fingers threading themselves through his short hair. When they part, Dinesh's heart is beating wildly out of his chest. They are still standing centimeters away from one another.

"There," Gilfoyle says, pulling back to meet Dinesh's eye. "Now you have something on me, too."

Before Dinesh can say a word, breathe, or decide if he wants to kiss him again, Gilfoyle is out the door.


End file.
